


Take Root

by Unusual_Raccoon



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Laurel goes to Lian Yu, Laurel's a little flirty, Oliver is agreeable, Only because she knows what she wants, because he loves Laurel, lauriver - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unusual_Raccoon/pseuds/Unusual_Raccoon
Summary: In the wake of Tommy's death Oliver needs to get away, but he can't leave without Laurel. So, he brings her with him to the only place he knows they will be alone.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Comments: 20
Kudos: 40





	Take Root

Laurel wasn’t sure what to make of Oliver appearing at her front door, but he was here with an earnest look in his eyes and his hand tangled with hers. He was still dressed in the suit he had worn to the wake, his eyes were red yet tears refused to fall. She pulled him into her apartment and subsequently into her arms out of habit. There was something so perfectly familiar about having him in her arms, his body language speaking all the things his lips couldn’t. She held him tighter and melted into the hold when he returned it.

Laurel knew if Tommy was still alive to see them, she would’ve been on the receiving end of an ‘I told you so’. She wouldn’t deny Oliver, and she was tired of denying her want for him though she tried.

“I have to go.” He whispered into the crook of her neck and Laurel felt something ache behind her ribcage, she thought it might be her heart splitting clean in two, she wasn’t sure she could stand him leaving  _ again _ .

“Ollie…” Laurel began, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, she just wanted him to stay. They had just lost one of their oldest friends, she couldn’t lose Oliver too, not so soon, not after she had just gotten him back.

Oliver sniffed and took a step back from her, his hand still stubbornly locked with hers and it felt like wires were spliced together at the point of their connection. It was almost like from her hand to his she could feel a warm pulsing current, like they were one thing, one being.

“I have to leave the city.” Oliver croaked, his voice sounded weak and hoarse. Laurel attempted an encouraging smile though it faltered, her chin wobbled and another sob worked it’s way up her chest. One hand came up to cup her cheek tenderly, while the other still remained firmly holding her hand.

Even with the tears blurring her vision Laurel knew that look in his eyes, that look that told her he wanted to tell her something, he wanted to say something but couldn’t. He had that same look in his eyes years ago and always managed to blame his reluctance on being tired from partying or on Tommy keeping him out late. Now though, Oliver looked less inclined to lie, a look of guilt twisted on his features.

“I can’t explain much, I just need you to come with me.” Oliver pleaded in a desperate voice, Laurel felt her breath catch in her throat. He meant it, she knew he meant it. He needed her and she needed him, for the last five years she had been scraping through life. Then Oliver had come back from the dead, and with him a part of her did too. She needed him, they needed each other.

“I-” Laurel began and her brain seemed to fill with a thousand reasons for her not to go, yet she knew if she dwelled on everyone else relying on her, her father, Joanna, everyone at CNRI, she would never go. 

For once she thought, maybe she needed to save herself before she could save the world.

“Okay.” She whispered back, squeezing his hand again to feel that warm pulse of electricity from his palm to hers. He pressed a kiss to her forehead in silent thanks and her hands clutched at his forearms the way they always did.

Oliver helped her pack some clothes, nothing much and most things he suggested were extremely practical.

Oliver never specified where they were going, but somehow Laurel knew...she knew in her bones he was taking her to the only place where pain made sense. The only place he- they could exist without the interference of the rest of the world. He was taking her back to where this all started.

They made a few stops, the first one at her father’s apartment to leave a hastily written letter in his mailbox, the next stop was to leave a note for Joanna too to keep her from worrying. Their final stop was at Oliver’s nightclub that Laurel was ashamed to say was actually pretty nice. Oliver disappeared into the building for a few minutes before emerging with a faded green wooden case with a foreign bronze padlock dangling from the latch. Laurel was certainly tempted to ask about the case, but decided not to, she had a feeling she would find out about its contents eventually.

He had been gone for five years, and Laurel realized that for five years he was just a plane and boat ride away, and somehow the truth was all the more heartbreaking.

Oliver kept her close to him all the while and discreetly paid people to get them where they needed to go. Laurel could feel his eyes on her when she slept, his fingers locked with hers as he watched over her, keeping her safe.

Laurel felt his hand in hers as they neared the jagged landscape of the island, odd pointed mountaintops clawing at the tinted blue sky like crooked teeth. The sight alone made fear twist in her belly, yet Laurel found herself giving a reassuring squeeze to Oliver’’s hand where it lay twisted with hers. He wasn’t alone this time, of that she was certain. They bobbed closer on the rickety little fishing boat he had paid to get them the rest of the way.

Oliver thanked the man in a language she didn’t know he could speak before she watched the small boat drift off into the distance. They were ankle deep in the cold water and Oliver looked at her with warmth that eagerly chased away the chill sweeping over her.

They waded through the water and onto the rocky shore all the while her hand stubbornly remained locked with Oliver’s and thankfully he never pulled away.

Laurel was amazed at the change in him almost as soon as they arrived, each step he took was confident and sure, ducking blindly beneath branches and vines that nearly smacked Laurel in the face. He was in control here, in his depth in ways he hadn’t been back home.

He navigated each dip in the dirt and each shallow stream liable for breaking unassuming ankles with ease.

Laurel felt her breath stutter in her throat as he guided her over a patch of dirt with his hands on her hips.

“What was that?” She asked as they continued the hike through the overwhelmingly  _ green  _ foliage.

“A landmine.” Oliver answered with a small smile. It was all so simple to him, and Laurel found herself starving to see that smile once more.

Laurel could see the split hull of a ship lying in the distance like a slain beast, moss and rust chewing at the exterior that protruded from the water. What had happened here, she wondered and silently hoped that maybe one day, Oliver might tell her.

They continued through the dense greenery and emerged at the mouth of the jungle facing a big open field, and beyond that was the wreckage of a plane. Using the fuselage of the aircraft as shelter was smart, Laurel thought, even if it wasn’t entirely entact.

Laurel had always been an active girl, throughout her youth she and Sara were always racing and climbing and as she had gotten older she stayed fit through a number of self defense and boxing classes, even still her calves and feet ached when they finally made it to the plane.

Oliver pulled up a makeshift seat that was actually a crate for her to sit on before offering her a canteen of water. He stroked his fingers over her sweat dampened hair as she took slow greedy sips of water. Realizing that Oliver might’ve wanted some water too, Laurel quickly handed back the canteen with a little apology. Oliver pushed the canteen back with a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” He whispered, though Laurel still hesitated as she brought her lips. He brushed away a bead of water that clung to the swell of her lower lip, flicking away the drop of moisture, before allowing her to resume drinking.

Laurel observed the space, the cargo boxes and cots, a circle of stones outfront made a little makeshift fire pit. All of it was foreign to her, but Oliver seemed just as familiar here as he had been in her apartment. He sat on a nearby cot, crossing his legs at the ankles as he stared at her.

“I dreamt of you when I was here.” Oliver remarked quietly while studying the sky through the gaps in the canopy covering the split in the fuselage. Laurel and he had always been close and for a number of years they had been intimate and with his return to Starling they had finally resumed that intimate relationship, still his words caused her to choke on a mouthful of water in surprise.

“Thanks for the warning.” Laurel muttered with a smile before handing off the canteen. She nervously chewed her lower lip as she tried to imagine what he had dreamt of her, knowing Oliver it had probably been something crass that would make her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“What was I doing in your dream?” Laurel dared to ask.

Now it was Oliver’s turn to smile that silly little embarrassed smile, color faintly darkening his cheeks, “You were in bed with me…” Oliver murmured with that contagious smile and Laurel couldn’t fight the giggle that resulted from his admission.

“How very original.” Laurel responded with a grin, rising from her seat despite the ache in her legs that burned up her calves. She tiptoed closer to where Oliver sat on a cot, skirting around him she pushed another cot flush with his. Climbing onto the stiff fabric she laid out beside him, smiling when he twisted to face her. The hem of the shirt she was wearing inched up as she squirmed to get comfortable.

“Like this?” Laurel asked coyly, watching as Oliver nodded his head slowly, his eyes practically glued to that slip of skin. She was tempted to pull him down for a kiss, though he beat her to it, leaning down to gently press his lips to hers. His tongue cautiously poked at the seam of her lips and Laurel eagerly opened her mouth to deepen the kiss.

“Something like that.” He whispered against her lips.

By the third day Laurel was fit for hiking, ignoring the ache in her legs in favor of seeing more of the island and spending more time with Oliver. He had been an enigma back home, but here he was even more so. Laurel had awoken that morning, rinsing her mouth with salt water in the fuselage, before venturing out to find Oliver.

It wasn’t long until she found him, and the sight of his stole her breath clean from her lungs. There he stood waist deep in the water lapping at the craggly rocky shore. His back was faced to her though Laurel had a feeling he knew she was there. Oliver didn’t jump in surprise when she wrapped her arms around his midsection, feeling the musculature of his torso flex beneath her hold with each breath.

“Morning.” She whispered against his nape with a kiss.

“Morning, how does fish sound for breakfast?” Oliver asked back with a smile. Laurel hummed thoughtfully, honestly, anything sounded better than the dried granola and beef jerky she had been subsisting on for the past few days.

“That,” She drawled as she sank into the water with him, “Sounds amazing.”

Laurel never anticipated the fact that Oliver might teach her something , not in the same way she had taught him stuff throughout high school, no, he was teaching her how to survive the same way he had. Each trip out of the fuselage was building her stamina and before long Laurel rarely felt aches in her legs like she had on the first day on the island.

Day by day he taught her more, how to track an animal, how to make a snare, how to fish.

The more time they spent together on the island the more Laurel felt Oliver opening up, sharing pieces of himself she knew he wouldn’t normally.

On the fifth day Laurel awoke to Oliver’s cot beside hers empty, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Oliver liked to rise early, before the sun to find food and water. The peculiar thing was the familiar green canvas hood sitting on the cot beside her…

Feeling the material beneath her fingers, Laurel sucked in a shaky breath...how many nights had she laid awake wondering about the man under the hood? Dreamed of him even? How long had she ignored the feeling in the gut, the voice in her head that told her clear as day who the man was. In a way she had known, since the man in the hood saved her in Iron Heights, she had seen his eyes...those dark blue eyes that Laurel could swear she knew better than her own.

The hood was still in her hands when Oliver returned with breakfast, a quiver of arrows and a bow in his hand...could it have been any more obvious? Few words were exchanged before Laurel was up and out of bed, throwing her arms around him. His bow clattered to the ground, effectively freeing both of his hands to return her eager embrace.

“I’m-” Oliver began, clearly trying to find the words to explain all that the hood meant.

“I know.” Laurel whispered as she clutched at him. Her hands stroked over his hair and cheeks and whatever else she could reach. She surged up to catch his lips in a desperate kiss as the events of the past year played out in her mind, the triad, that ridiculous copycat archer, Garfield Lynns, Cyrus Vanch, the devastation in the Glades...he had been trying to protect her and the city this whole time. God, he was amazing. Oliver returned the kiss with equal fervor. Laurel struggled with the clasp of the quiver and settled with pushing it up and over his head, spilling a mess of arrows to the ground in the process. Oliver abandoned some of the fruit he had brought them to eat along with the arrows to adorn the floor.

His hands pushed beneath the hem of her shirt and Laurel was quick to help him relieve her of it. Everything felt hot, including each scorching kiss Oliver placed on her skin. The path his tongue took across her clavicle set her body alight as Laurel felt that pulse thundering from his body to hers as she clawed at his back to keep him close to her. For the past few days Oliver had insisted on not wearing a shirt and for that Laurel was immensely grateful.

They staggered back onto the cot’s nearly toppling one in their haste, though Laurel didn’t care and she was positive Oliver didn’t either.

\--

Laurel was laid out in the grass marveling at the sea of stars above their heads as Oliver defeathered their dinner to the best of his ability. The warm crackle of the fire and pretty spiral smoke were more familiar now than they had ever been before. Laurel was beginning to feel less and less like a goldfish dropped in the ocean, this damn place was starting to take root in her.

Smoothing the fabric of the hood between her fingers, she still marveled that such a simple scrap of canvas had such power to rearrange her life, to scare criminals into compliance, to start to heal a broken city…

“I want to help you.” Laurel announced, sitting up from her spot on the ground. Oliver halted his motion of carving up the breast meat of the bird he was about to cook.

“With dinner?” Oliver asked innocently and Laurel snorted as she scooted closer to him.

“With this.” Laurel said, holding up the hood to illustrate precisely what she meant. If the man she loved had spent months trying to save their city, she wanted to help. What better way to do it, than together?

Oliver didn’t stop cutting up pieces of the bird this time, he kept his head down and remained focused on his task.

“Okay.” He said simply without looking up, and Laurel couldn’t help but be a little skeptical of him agreeing and so quickly at that. She loved Oliver, but she also knew he was incredibly stubborn.

“I’m serious, Ollie.” Laurel said a little more firmly to ensure there was no mistaking how important this was to her. Apparently Oliver was able to discern this, he jabbed the tip of the knife he was using into the dirt and placed the bird down beside it. Wiping his hands on his pants, he turned to face Laurel calmly.

“So am I,” Oliver replied, “The Hood was most effective when he had Laurel Lance in his corner. He-I need her-you. I need you.” Oliver corrected and it was still a little jarring how Oliver could refer to the hood and Oliver Queen as separate entities, but Laurel was starting to get used to it. Despite all the corrections, the sentiment was still there, he was willing to share this part of himself with her.

Laurel couldn’t fight the radiant smile breaking across her face and it seemed neither could Oliver as he pulled away from dinner to steal a kiss.

“So, when do I start training?” Laurel asked, trying to hide her bubbling excitement. She watched as Oliver seemed to mull over the question, sectioning off pieces of the bird to roast over the fire.

“How does tomorrow sound?” He asked with a smirk.

“That,” Laurel said inching closer to him, leaning in for a gentle, loving kiss, “sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, this was my first time writing Earth-1 Laurel. I adore her and really wanted to do her justice in this fic and give a little look into what could've been.
> 
> This was super spur of the moment, so please excuse any mistakes.


End file.
